


The Poison Prince

by macgyvershe



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU meeting between Moriarty and our men, Established Relationship, Evil Moriarty, John is abducted, M/M, Sherlock To The Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:15:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25233742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macgyvershe/pseuds/macgyvershe
Summary: An AU meeting between Moriarty and our guys. John is abducted. Sherlock to the rescue. Moriarty being as reptilian as possible. Our guys are in an established relationship.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	The Poison Prince

John, his hands plastic zip tied behind his back, is shoved into the room that vaguely resembles a modern, yet completely cold, throne room. Instead of rich gold’s and sumptuous reds the decor is mirror sharp chromes and black shiny leather that is textured to look like the skins of creatures not-of-this-world.

There on a raised dais, Moriarty sits in an over sized chair that dwarfes his diminutive form. He is dressed in a black leather outfit that mades him look like he has crawled out of a vipers den. One leg thrown over the chairs arm rest, he looks completely in his element. Smiling at John, his dark laser like eyes reminded John of Sherlock’s. The focus is astonishing. Though Moriarty’s eyes are jet black and Sherlock’s more like storm clouds over the sea.

John stands tall, nothing but brave and confident. Knowing he is hostage to Sherlock’s behavior. A pawn in the power game between his friend and this self proclaimed consulting criminal. Knowing the worst is yet to come; there are no happy endings with Moriarty. All he can hope for is a quick death and pray that Sherlock doesn’t get caught in the cross fire. He takes a deep cleansing breath and faces the devil in black.

“Well, John. So nice of you to drop by and spend some time with little me.” Moriarty speaks in his child-friendly inside voice.

“You’ve got me, Moriarty. I won’t play your games. I know you’re going to kill me so do it. Have done with it and stop the arsing around.”

“Dear, darling John, you have got this all wrong. I didn’t go through all the trouble of practically cutting you from Sherlock’s hip to kill you; that would be so wasteful. I’m really not that type. You are going to become my very special and wonderfully cherished...pet. Take him out and fit him up.” Moriarty commands and several rather large minions come to take John away. 

(-_-)

In a brief period of time John is returned. Bare footed and chested, he wears only tight black leather pants that cling to his well muscled legs and other male attributes. A leather collar adorns his neck. The collar looks to have some type of electronic attachment.

“Now that looks sooo much better. You are rather delicious aren’t you? Now I want you to pay attention. See the little blue button on my watch?”

Moriarty presses the button and John screams in pain, grabbing the collar; zapped by its electric current. “Oh, good it works perfectly. So from now on you will do as I say or you will suffer these continued shocks. Being a doctor, you know that this is not a good area to get shocked. Could do some damage couldn’t it?”

“Down on your knees,” Moriarty commands.

John trembles with rage, but sees no alternative. He gets on his knees before the Poison Prince. Thinking he can’t wait for Sherlock to take down this consulting arsehole. 

(-_-)

An hour later, Sherlock enters the throne room escorted by several cronies. Moriarty awaits, a snarky smile upon his reptilian lips. John sits at the bottom of the dais. His head held high. Sherlock stares into John’s eyes. A long moment blazes between them as they communicate on a level Moriarty will never understand.

It stings Sherlock to see John so ill used. He turns his attention to Moriarty.

“Well, Moriarty, I see that little has changed with you. You’re still the megalomaniac that you’ve always been; with just a touch of hauteur couture to make your taste, truly tasteless.” Sherlock’s voice is as contemptuous as it is a deeply erotic baritone.

“Oh, ordinary Sherlock, have you come to retrieve your little pet? Doesn’t he look great at my side? I take much better care of him than you ever did. Don’t I baby?” Jim’s voice is sickly smarmy.

Sherlock keeps his frozen gaze on Moriarty. What god awful bullshit is Moriarty playing at? He’s been hurting and humiliating John. Sherlock’s rage flares and he clenches his fists to avoid springing into action too soon.

“Want to see my little pet do his tricks? John, I want you to get on all fours for me, NOW!” Moriarty shouts, holding his finger over the blue button at the same time. John moves to obey. He looks at Sherlock, his eyes bright with unspoken words.

“Bastard.” Sherlock grinds his teeth as he watches John follow Moriarty’s command.

The lights in the room start strobing on and off. Sherlock launches himself at Moriarty. With one motion he breaks Jim’s wrist. A sharp ceramic knife removes the offensive watch with its blue button. At the same time, John springs into motion. Grabbing Moriarty he slams his head into the throne chair. The sharp edges of the chair split his head in many places and blood splatters everywhere.

Sherlock attacks the metal collar trying to remove it; no luck. Then taking the watch he crushes it on the arm rest of the chair and the collar releases. John is free, but this isn’t the end. Moriarty is going to pay heavily for what he has done just as all his minions have done before him.

Dragging the limp body of Moriarty between them by the shoulders of his tight leather shirt, Sherlock and John head out of the serpents lair. 

“I take it there is back up on its way?” John comments. “By the way, thanks for the save. What took you so long?”

“It was a tad tricky gaining access. Moriarty’s labyrinth caused the consumption of a considerable amount of time. The Yarders should be getting to the outer doors by the time we get there.”

Sherlock gives John a wickedly analytical analysis.

“Really like that look on you.” Sherlock smirks. “We should visit it again in our bedroom.” 

“You wanker.” John gives an evil smile. “For you, anything.”


End file.
